Honoria Wingate
Description A shadow. A rush of soft movement. A glint of violet eyes. That is what most people see of the silent, elusive fae, and that is how she prefers it. To the few who have seen more, she is merely a tall figure, swathed in voluminous black that tapers to long, narrow feet concealed in black, soft-soled shoes. Occasionally, she wears tabi boots given to her by Jonas Foster, but the length of black cloth hiding the shape of her body never changes. A hood keeps her brilliant hair from view, but a few wisps have been known to escape the tight braid she wears, displaying the strange shade- a strawberry blonde that can best be described as blood-coated gold. For the sake of sheer exposition, what no one ever sees is hidden by layers. The outermost layer is a pair of XXXL black slacks, cinched at the waist by a black sash and tucked into knee-high black socks. A XXXL black shirt blouses around her shoulders, tucked into elbow-length, black leather gloves, and a long black scarf is wound about her throat, drawn up to conceal her face save for her eyes. A black hood tucked into the scarf keeps her hair from view and serves to hold it back so that it doesn't wave into her eyes. Beneath the outermost layer is another of skintight black spandex, a bodysuit which ends at ankle and wrist that must be stepped into and drawn up. Under that are heavy undergarments- biking shorts and a sports tank (black, of course) which conceal yet another layer of panties and a thick sports bra. Honoria does not jiggle. If the day ever came that she would put off her loose, black garments, it is possible that she would be striking. Exceptionally tall, she is tightly and lithely muscled, with little in the way of soft padding on her lanky frame. A life of constant motion has given her muscles that respond instantly, but has not granted her the luxury of adding womanly softness to her body. It is not a softness she would like. Some things cannot be escaped, however, and she has a few subtle curves, indistinguishable beneath the cloth. If she added a few pounds, then she would be an ideal hourglass- heavy of breast and curved of hip, with a minute waist earned through heredity and long effort. Those are not pounds she intends to put on. Her face is a dream of narrow planes, smooth flesh and large, luminous eyes. Rarely does anyone see the beauty in her features, for Honoria's expression is always that of suspicion. Her plush lips remain compressed, whitened by her efforts to keep back what rages within. Eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared to catch any scent, the tension she lives under shows in the line of her jaw evident through the soft curve of her cheek and the constant, flickering motion of her eyes to track everything in sight. A sidhe, yes. The ideal of beauty that her kith is meant to be? Perhaps. Approachable? No. Certainly and absolutely, the answer is no. Personality The world taught the child Heather Wingate that it was cold, cruel and unfeeling very early on, and even as the time passed and she claimed her true name, Honoria has discovered that the world does not and will not change. Raised by one who had succumbed to insanity, it should come as no surprise that she holds that taint herself. Everyone and everything is a threat- something to be watched, judged and if the time comes, killed. Learning to watch for danger became a habit that slowly developed into an obsession: Honoria is an observer of life, not a participant. With no job, no formal schooling and no responsibilities to attend, she passes her days watching everyone and everything. Knowing where she is at any given time is impossible- with her learned abilities, she moves like a blown leaf, easily ignored, invisible to even a searching eye and swiftly. A very few have found that Honoria has endless questions about the world she watches. Jonas is one of the few she approached after years of watching, putting to him the queries about motivation that mere observation couldn't answer. Spider is another who can count on the occasional visit from the silent fae, usually to provide a cup of something hot to sip and a book that might answer the most recent question which has arisen. To the world by and large, however, the fae is invisible- a shadow that moves from one high place to another, only causing the occasional glance upward as someone wonders if a bird has drifted past overhead. Despite numerous attempts on the part of Bertram and Andrew, the fae have not been able to make much inroad into Honoria's past, nor her present. Her future, well... They leave that to her, trusting that what restraint she has shown so far will continue to hold. Mariel has had the most success in approaching Honoria, simply due to the fact that the snarky drummer cares even less for Honoria's title and fae blood than the fae herself does. The vampires know more of Honoria than most, but Slate greatly regrets the first encounter his Rough Riders had with her, and when he speaks of her, it is only to defend her from Nathan's snide comments. He does not receive conversation nor visits, but the "care packages" that he leaves for her on the roof of Our Lady of Mercy are not rejected. A fae with a title she will not claim, a life she will not change and a plot of unmarked ground beneath a willow in the small cemetery located in the northern Residential District that she tends, Honoria is an enigma, and none have been able to get any answers as to those puzzling questions out of her. Pre-Game History Born Heather Wingate to an affluent family in northern Illinois, the child who would one day be Honoria was met with a family that nurtured the seed of insanity well. Her mother Lenore was earnestly studying to be an alcoholic, devoting all of her time to the mysteries of the bottle and what wondrous effects it could offer, while nannies tended the newborn girl. Her stepfather Eric had a business to run and no patience for the strawberry blonde little girl who sought parental attention, and he reinforced his dislike of having a whining brat at his feet with blows. It was her stepbrother Marc who gave the growing child the attention she so desired. A son from Eric's first marriage, Marc was spoiled and used to getting his own way. The new baby in the house was merely an annoyance until she was old enough to walk, and then she became an amusing toy to lure into various mischief. The mischief turned sinister when Marc discovered his baby half-sister would say nothing about the time they spent together, and with a spoiled boy's sense of entitlement, the abuse he began subjecting her to was nothing more than his due. Heather remained silent, enduring what felt wrong for the sake of companionship, but the temper tantrums thrown as a child's defensive reaction to abuse were met with only further abuse from her father. A slap would silence the girl, and a kick would get her out of the room. Heather learned quickly that silence and hiding were her best defence from her family, and the elaborate gardens became her haven. It was in those gardens that the five-year-old met an elderly gardener. Esau Hirsi was a quiet man with a flashing smile and a warm gaze for the brightly haired child who he came across in hidden corners, beneath rose bushes and behind shrubs. Pity moved him to gentle conversation, and in the hostile little girl, he saw a soul that ached for kindness. Esau gave it in spades: showing her how to weed and tend the plants, naming the life that moved through the gardens, answering her halting questions. When she was forced back indoors by a scolding nanny, he gave her a pretty, sun-warmed pebble and said he'd see her the next day. Thus began the first of two stable relationships in Heather's life. (The second would not come for quite some time.) Esau was the first she sought out, and her preferred company at any point. He found her to be eager to learn and prideful, with a longing to be loved beneath her prickly exterior. Not long after he began teaching her about flowers, he discovered something else. It was not merely a beautiful five year old that he discovered on the garden swing, but a sidhe childling. The elderly eshu knew instantly that she held a high title, and that hers was a house of great honour. How he knew, he couldn't explain, but Esau wasted no time in explaining gently to the young sidhe about her new world. Just after her sixth birthday, Esau took her to the local court, and her house and title were found during her Saining. She was Kraljević Honoria of the house Varich. In other words, a princess. It was either dreadful luck or something determined to twist the young princess's path that led to the small accident shortly before her seventh birthday. A child's tumble from the garden fence led to a bump on the head and a bloody nose, both of which Esau- now her fae mentor and guardian- tended to. Arthur observed this, and his growing discontent that this old gardener had taken away his plaything took hold. Reporting to his father, Arthur looked on smugly as the old man was fired and "Heather" locked into her room. He took full advantage of that, and even a sidhe princess is still a frightened child in the presence of a person who has abused them in the past. Desperate for Esau's protection, Heather took a bold step and asked another servant in the large household to find him and give him a letter. The maid wasn't bothered by the task, but reported that Esau had been found dead not twelve hours after leaving the grounds. A mugging gone horribly wrong, the maid said, and she patted Heather's shoulder gently as she delivered the shattering news. Arthur found his stepsister crying, and laughed uproariously at her feeble kicks when he dragged her into the library to cement his victory. That night, the young sidhe gathered up everything Esau had given her: a chimerical dagger, a small book of fairy tales, a stone that made organic material into edible cakes and sturdy leather boots. She packed heavy clothing, another pair of suitable shoes, a cake of soap, blankets, all the money she could find by scouring the house. Packing with the wisdom of an eshu in mind, she donned her backpack, tested its' weight and then slipped away from her childhood home. Her violet eyes remained fixed ahead, and her steps never paused as she walked away. A young, beautiful child on the streets alone is bound to run into considerable trouble. Avoiding the authorities was easy enough; her parents didn't care enough to put effort into finding her, and the fae magic she knew kept her from most eyes. There were some, however, who saw the child and lunged with definitive intent. Scar upon scar layered onto her mind, and she shied away from any physical contact with even the kindest intentions behind them. Pertinent Connections * Player characters and/or NPCs the character has a strong relationship with. * Romantic relationships will be detailed. Game History Highlights * An outline of important events that have occurred to the character. Category:Bookcase